She's the absinthe on my lips, the splinter in my fingertips
by Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs
Summary: "I wanted to be here when you were told." It's a nine word sentence, and it sits heavily in the center of CJ's chest. Tag to 'The Fall's Gonna Kill You'. Hints at a pre-series incident. Mostly angsty. Abbey/CJ. One-shot.


A/N: Tag to 'The Fall's Gonna Kill You'. Abbey/CJ, mostly hints at a previous incident and angst. I refuse to apologize.

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.

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Their friendship had come easily.

Being the only women in the upper levels of the campaign, they'd bonded over coffee and late nights, and CJ Cregg had come to admire Abbey Bartlet in more ways than one. When they'd won the White House, things had changed, naturally. But they still occasionally got drunk together, and CJ watched from a distance as Abbey played the part of First Lady well.

But CJ could see the cracks in the façade so much more clearly now, especially up close. It made her chest ache in a funny way, and she resisted the urge to rub at her sternum with the heel of her hand as Abbey looked at her with large, wet eyes and a pursed mouth that underlined the strain in her jaw.

She was reminded, in sharp focus, that Abbey had been hiding this secret for years- she'd dealt with all of her husband's episodes, she knew the medical language behind everything that was going on in her husband's body. CJ had only known for hours, and she could feel the stress in her shoulders and back and neck.

It made her want to ask in Abbey was alright.

"_I wanted to be here when you were told_."

It's a nine word sentence, and it sits heavily in the center of CJ's chest.

It would have been nice if Abbey had been there when she was told. If Abbey had been the one to tell her. The difference between Abbey telling her instead of Leo was striking, in her mind, and it was like she could feel Abbey's hand on her arm, the head of their legs brushing as one of them shifted towards the other.

Manhattan, Kansas was significant for more than just CJ seeing Abbey inject something into her husband's arm, and if CJ closed her eyes, she could feel the hand on her leg and Abbey's lips pressed to her cheek, smelling like champagne and flowers.

She's said she couldn't remember the hotel they'd been staying in.

It was a Sheridan; she can still see the bright neon sign as they pulled in, Abbey pressed against her in the back of the car, just the two of them. She'd lied about not remembering, because it was easier to forget about warm skin and drunken giggles.

"Sit down, CJ," Abbey said quietly, and with a soft breath CJ moved from the arm of the sofa to the cushion next to Abbey. She flicked the blinds, because she didn't want intruding eyes watching, and something in Abbey's face softened further at the movement. "I'm sorry."

CJ looked at her, brow creasing in confusion at her words. The older woman looked down at her hands, thumbs brushing over each other as she exhaled, chest falling with the movement underneath her dark sweater.

"We should have told you," Abbey said, but CJ knew she was saying 'I should have told _you_'. CJ looked at her hands, and was almost-startled when a warm palm slid over her fingers, Abbey's fingers twining with hers in CJ's lap. "And I'm sorry."

CJ looked up, meeting her eyes, and swallowed, nodding. The air thickened and a part of her just wanted to bury her face in Abbey's neck and hug her, to feel her body pressed against hers, but another part of her stopped herself.

Abbey was First Lady. She was married. Last time there had been alcohol and they'd forgotten about it. It hadn't happened. It wouldn't happen again.

"Thank you, Abbey," CJ said softly, untangling their fingers and standing, needing distance, needing space. She paced to her desk, eyes dropping to Gail swimming around the fishbowl, and she took a deep breath.

"I should go," Abbey whispered, and the vice around CJ's lungs tightened. She turned abruptly, finding Abbey standing, hand reaching for the doorknob.

"You don't have to," she blurted out before she could stop herself, watching as Abbey turned, eyes still shiny with unshed tears. The First Lady blinked, caught off-guard, before nodding.

"Okay," she murmured, and CJ watched as she moved back towards the couch. As the brunette settled back onto the pale sofa, CJ exhaled, and the vice loosened a little.

She would take these small moments while she could.


End file.
